Current Events

I’ve been conflicted about whether or not to share my “me too” story. I have felt yucky remaining silent, yet I don’t feel safe posting to Facebook. There is something about the medium itself that has kept me from speaking up. I thought about writing something here on Invoke, but I didn’t want to feel the…

Trump is president and I am afraid. Sometimes I cry on my way to work or at the warehouse when I'm in a truck all by myself. My boss, bless his pendejo soul, says, "You'll be alriiiiight." Me and my fam, we've always fought that uphill battle—when my single-parent mom didn’t have all the money…

Tuesday Jan. 17, 5:53 pm Minneapolis-St Paul Airport We’ll be lifting off shortly—all collectively choosing to act like flying through the air in a metal, bird-shaped contraption is unremarkable. I wonder at the impeccable patience of flight attendants. While their cheery disposition is at times terrifying, their perfectly folded pocket napkins are oddly comforting. My…

A few weeks ago, I sat on the edge of my bed, despondent. I sat in pain and bereft. Hurt by this election. Hurt by this rhetoric. Hurt by all the words being tossed around that have broken my heart and the hearts of many women, many people, for so many days over the past…

Mni wiconi—“Water is life.” This Lakota phrase weaves throughout my days here on Standing Rock Reservation in North Dakota. Over the past week, I’ve seen it on T-shirts worn by teenagers, on banners held by children, painted on family cars, shouted from kayaks, and whispered in prayer by grandmothers. I’ve come to this community in…

This article was originally published by New America Weekly. I am an arms dealer in Libya, but my weapons reduce violence and last longer than a bullet. As the founder of the Voice of Libyan Women (VLW), a women’s rights organization focused on peace and security, the tools I use to drive change and create…

499,226. That’s how many refugees washed up on the shores of Lesbos, Greece in 2015, fleeing war, poverty, and hopelessness. It’s a number—and conflict—that’s hard to wrap your mind around. But for Zoe Wild, it wasn’t about wrapping her mind around anything; it all came down to her heart. As she scrolled through her…

In 2004 I apologized to the Peace Corps for being raped, because I believed them when they told me it was my fault. The messages I received during my counseling from Peace Corps have stayed with me as little reminders, embedded in my psyche. Don’t tell people you’d been drinking the night you were attacked….

In July 2015, Rosemary Alles left her high-paying job with NASA’s SOFIA mission and began the process of leaving behind her San Francisco home and giving away her possessions. She’s moving to South Africa to advocate for elephants, in order to give everything she can to these beautiful creatures. Why such a drastic move? Depending…

This spring, I read an article about why humans experience awe, a state the authors describe as “being in the presence of something vast that transcends our understanding of the world.” They describe awe as the “ultimate collective emotion,” one that helps bind us to others and connect to some greater good. I agree with…

Dear Anne, I’ve been a fan of yours for years, and your writings have helped sustain me in my own life journey. So I was confused to see your recent tweets making disparaging remarks about Caitlyn Jenner and her gender transition. In your Twitter apology, I noticed you primarily focused on transgender teenagers and their parents,…

I grew up in a society deeply wounded by war. The USSR of my childhood was covered with monuments to war heroes. The culture was saturated with movies, books, and songs dedicated to the bravery of the Soviet soldiers defending their motherland. Every family was affected, as the USSR’s total death toll in World War…

Have you ever been scrolling through your Facebook feed when you suddenly run across a violent news story, or sitting in a public place when you see on TV that people were killed in a bombing somewhere? What did you feel in that moment? We often find ourselves suddenly witnessing something deeply disturbing in the media. And…

Often I’ll judge a book by how sad I am to see it end. As I neared the last pages of Rafia Zakaria’s new book, “The Upstairs Wife: An Intimate History of Pakistan,” I found myself slowing my pace, not yet ready to give it up. But the sadness was more complex than usual. It…